One More Night
by fromthehillbythelake
Summary: Maybe, Katie realizes, she can love him. Jatie ONESHOT.


**Well, I officially ship Jatie hardcore. They are so wonderful, it can't be helped. This is just a little fic about the progression of their relationship. I hope you like it! (And I hope this kinda, sorta, maybe makes you ship them too eheh). I still love Eclare (always will), I am just absolutely intrigued by Jake and Katie right now :) **

**I don't own. And I got a little inspiration from Maroon 5.**

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-x-

She was mean like she couldn't help it, _especially_ around him.

She was angry - _always_ at him - for what he did, for what he didn't do, for things that weren't his fault and for things completely out of his control.

Most would say she was...cold. Beautiful, but in an untouchable, glacial way.

But the thing about icebergs was that you only saw about ten percent of them. The rest was submerged, quiet, intimidating; full of mystery and darkness, yet promising the world for the one who looked closely. You could circle it for hours, and would find something new and surprising and inviting every time you held your breath to catch a glimpse beneath the surface of the water. Occasionally, you could even pick away some of the ice to reveal a vulnerable, beautiful story underneath.

Katie _hated_ it when he picked away.

She prided herself on her ability to control - herself, her emotions, her life. She wasn't unfeeling (she felt too much), but she was driven. _Work hard, play hard. Work now, play later. _She kept _going, going, going_, no matter if she was about to burn out, because there was always work to be done, and she was the best one to do it.

She was a modest girl, but she took credit for her work. If she spent the whole night editing a project/studying for a test/hammering out the tiniest of details that others would have missed so that everything was perfect, she _would_ be acknowledged.

She didn't know how to shut off, she realized. Except in sleep. There, she had all the time in the world to dream, to create, to relax. There, she let go.

She hit him a lot. He didn't seem to mind, which made her hit him harder.

She was simultaneously enraged, envious, and calmed by his subtle grace, his quiet strength. He could breathe, could determine what was important and what deserved his attention, and he would oblige. He understood that certain things only needed a certain amount of his time, and would leave it at that. When she could spend days worrying about the tiniest, most minute thing that had stunted the 'perfection' of whatever she was working on/doing, he could acknowledge that things would never be perfect, and could make up for it with his charm.

She hated him for it.

She called him lazy, irresponsible, self-serving, because that was easier than admitting that he knew how to organize his priorities better than she ever could. Easier than admitting that he'd found out the secret to her happiness and couldn't help rubbing it in her face.

She knew he didn't do it on purpose. But she acted like he did so she could be _mean_. It was what connected them after all.

She would find the smallest, most insignificant error is his work - whether in school, or out of it - and bitch about it. If there were no errors, she'd make one up. She did it to remind him that she was better, better because she planned and organized and analyzed. And he'd smile, a soft, sad smile, like he knew what she was doing.

She wouldn't dare be so cruel to anyone else. She'd smile, take on their tasks, tell them she'd manage it, tell them she was fine, tell them what they needed to hear so she could make things perfect and could rack them up in her head as weak and dependent and incapable.

She knew that she loved three people; her sister, her mom, and her dad, irrevocably. She sometimes thought that love was stupid; that wasting her time with something so messy and unpredictable and destructive was inefficient. She was capable of love, she knew, but couldn't seem to do it when the entire human race acted so childish and idiotic. Sometimes she thought she loved Marisol, but knew it was different; that was about loyalty. She wouldn't jump in front of a train for her like she would for Maya or her mom or dad. The thought was so horrible and it only surfaced on her darkest days, but like her tears, she buried it in the deepest parts of her heart.

But with him, she could be needy and insecure and hateful and bitchy and blissful and carefree and excited and impulsive and she hated him because nothing she did seemed to faze him. She realized that she could be herself with him, and that terrified her because she wasn't like that (a whirlwind of good and bad and bullshit) with anyone except Maya, and she wasn't sure she liked herself yet, and it was too soon to trust him this fast and-

Jake Martin didn't hide. She wasn't sure if she appreciated it yet.

He said what he meant, and did what he said he would do; didn't have any hidden motives or desires; was a good person for the sake of being good.

She told him to leave every time they fought, threw things and slammed doors, and told him that she didn't give a damn and that they weren't going to do _this_ anymore. Ever.

But he'd kiss her and love her and hold her as she kept _going, going, going_, because he knew it was who she was.

She wanted him to have a nice girl, a girl that treated him well, but he said he didn't want a _nice_ girl, and that he liked it very much when she disrespected him.

It scared her to death that he saw all the parts of her and still seemed to like her anyways, so she was cruel to remind him that he'd asked for it, and she was cruel to remind herself that she didn't deserve him.

Only once, things got so bad between them that she was sure he'd leave. He glared at her, his chest heaving, his eyes furious, his mouth hopeless. She saw the hate in his shoulders, the anger in his jaw, the exhaustion in his hands. She was sure that that was the last night she would see him. She was sure that he was done, sick of the fighting, sick of keeping score. She was sure she was dying. But after a moment, he relented, following his heart instead of his head; his head that she was sure was telling him he was stupid and that he'd hate himself in the morning, but that he couldn't escape her. She was stuck on him like a tattoo.

They went hard that night. And it made her feel better, that they shouldn't be doing this anymore, but they did it anyway.

-x-

He invited her to his cottage, and she told him she'd make it up if she felt like it. He smiled.

She hopped out of her car, making her away around the back to meet him. It was disgustingly hot out, and she hoped that he had forgotten to turn the fan on in the cottage so she could yell at him. She didn't like being nervous and jumpy, but his stupid invitation was making her stomach twist painfully, and it was better to be angry at him than let him see how he affected her.

He had his shirt off and was facing away from her, his body splayed near the porch, a layer of sweat shining on his chest. She rolled her eyes. He always maintained that it was comfortable when he was working, but she couldn't concentrate with him like that (and between you and I, his nakedness affected her more than she cared to admit). Especially because he seemed so natural and confident in his own skin, whereas she still got insecure about her lithe body.

He had a hammer in his hands, and adjusted his position to fix a nail when she saw what he was working on.

"What the hell is that?" she quipped. He didn't seem startled by her arrival.

"It's a ramp," he answered smoothly, turning to face her and spinning the hammer in his hands.

She didn't like the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Why?"

"For your mom," he said quietly. "She has a hard time getting around as it is, so I made it for her. There's one by the deck too..."

Katie didn't speak for several moments, refusing to let any tears fall from her eyes.

"It's not like she's ever coming up here, why the hell would you make them?" she ground out finally.

"I invited your family up," he replied gently.

She hated him. But she wasn't sure what that meant anymore.

"They said they'd love to come up," he continued, dropping the hammer and taking slow steps towards her. "Maya even said that she would be really happy to officially meet her sister's boyfriend..."

Katie's breath caught in her throat.

"Who says you're my boyfriend?"

He smiled. "You're allowed to smile you know," he said warmly, taking her hand in his.

She bit her lip, still hating him. "Well you must've gotten some help."

He smirked this time. "Eli and Clare were up here the last couple of times I was building them," he explained, pulling her towards the cottage. "You're lucky you missed all the cute, lovey-dovey moments they had in the hammock. You probably would've thrown up," he teased, curling her hair behind her ear. He was a modest boy, she knew, and he didn't need to take credit for his work.

And as he pushed her against the siding, kissing her senseless and grinding against her softly, she knew she loved four people. She still hated him, fiercely, but she wondered if that was part of loving him too. He made the lines blurry and she knew she said it a million times and would probably say it a million more, but she'd only stay with him one more night.

"There you go again," he rasped, nipping at her neck.

"What?" she breathed, gripping him tighter.

"Making me love you," he whispered, caressing her tenderly.

And with reckless abandon and a desperate sigh, she knew she'd jump in front of a train for him.

"I love you," she confessed before she could change her mind, and without giving him time to recover, she pushed him to the ground. She crossed her heart, swearing she'd give him every night.

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**I hope that was a nice treat! Review lovely? :)**


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